


I fall for you at these times

by stargazers



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 11:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16515797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazers/pseuds/stargazers
Summary: Bobby watches Yunhyeong numbly, green pajama sleeves falling over his hands, under his feet, over his collarbones like water, like satin sheets. His mind is suddenly much clearer.





	I fall for you at these times

The house is too quiet when Bobby stumbles into it – it took him far too many tries and a bloody fist against the wall to get the right password, it just makes him angry, he’s steaming – and he wishes he wasn’t here. In Hawaii, why is he in Hawaii?

 

The party felt inherently wrong, like falling into bed with a pillow that didn’t smell like him, which is strange because a room with alcohol, music and girls is never wrong, right? The alcohol was plentiful, fancy cocktails with colorful umbrellas that made Bobby think of money, hedonism, made him think of being in America years ago, starting from the bottom, except he doesn’t really like how it feels on the top.  
Less cool rooftop breeze, more suffocating in a room full of sweaty bodies.

 

The music was alright, Bobby thinks dully as he collapses on the sofa – Chanwoo’s socks are still tossed on the pillow, someone’s left their earphones dangling under the arm and will be whining on the bus tomorrow morning – though he can’t differentiate one track from the next. They blur in his mind without resistance and he wonders if this is what his music is like to strange ears; nothing special, nothing memorable. Nothing he remembers now, rubbing his eyes and cracking his neck.

 

A light flickers on in the kitchen, Bobby closes his eyes against the light but lies still. Watches as a familiar figure trudges into the room, fumbling with cupboard handles, opening and closing with quiet clicks because he’s considerate like that. Gentle.

 

Bobby watches Yunhyeong numbly, green pajama sleeves falling over his hands, under his feet, over his collarbones like water, like satin sheets. His mind is suddenly much clearer.

 

Yunhyeong pays him no mind, rubbing his shoulder absently as he looks for the ginger and lemon tea Bobby knows he drinks when his throat is sore – he’s had a cup or two himself when he needed it, always in a pale blue mug and offered with a smile. Yunhyeong is tired, Bobby can tell. His shoulder must hurt from the way his face scrunches up when he reaches up to put the tea leaves back in the cupboard. Bobby watches him turn around to take a delicate sip – he would make fun of him for it, except this is Yunhyeong in his own. No cameras, no lights.

 

Still beautiful, albeit a bit sadder.

 

‘C’mere.’

 

Bobby doesn’t realize he’s broken the silence until Yunhyeong’s head shoots up and his large eyes blink rapidly. It takes him a while – silence is how Yunhyeong wields his anger – but by the time Bobby has sat up and extended a hand, Yunhyeong’s feet are moving across the hall towards Bobby.

 

‘Party over already?’

 

Yunhyeong is upset, Bobby knows, but he can’t remember what for. It’ll come to him in the morning, he’s sure. He simply takes Yunhyeong’s wrist from where it’s hanging limply by his side and pulls him closer, turns him around and pushes his shoulders down so that he’s seated between Bobby’s thighs.

 

The sudden motion pulls a high-pitched yelp out of him, and Bobby shushes with him with a hand on his shoulder, kneading through the knots. The fabric of Yunhyeong’s pajamas is soft and silky, sensual against Bobby’s rough palm, and Yunhyeong has long submitted with a sigh, head hung low.

 

Bobby takes his nape into his hand, too, pressing gently with his thumbs, circling his neck, up to his head. It’s supposed to be soothing, except Yunhyeong is making small noises, pulling his head up to lay back on Bobby’s left shoulder, and he can see the line of his nose at this angle, the plumpness of his lips, the shadows of his collarbones.

 

‘Feel good?,’ Bobby feels obliged to say, to put this scene into context somewhere before his heart picks up, his blood starts rushing. Of course, Yunhyeong sighs and it doesn’t work – these things never work with Yunhyeong. Every movement of his is made to be admired, or in Bobby’s case, followed hungrily, mouth watering, hands tightening around his waist, pulling him back against Bobby’s chest.

 

This wasn’t supposed to happen, in Bobby’s defense, and he can see the exact moment Yunhyeong comes to himself in high definition – the fluttering of his lashes, the inhale of his chest, the drag of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. Turns to face Bobby with large, brown eyes, like he’s waiting for Bobby to make the call. Waiting for instructions.

 

It’s more intoxicating than any alcohol, any girl up against him.

 

It happens between one breath and the next; Yunhyeong’s jaw cradled in his hand, eyes larger than ever. Eyes dropping to his lips.

_I could write a song about you._

‘I’m drunk,’ Bobby blurts out, but it doesn’t stop his hand from tightening around Yunhyeong’s waist, pulling him closer against his body, against his groin. He doesn’t know if it’s an excuse, a warning, an admission.

 

He knows what it is: an apology. Yunhyeong would never stand for such behavior, it’ll just push him further away, as if he doesn’t scamper away from Bobby the second he’s within arms reach already. Still, he can’t make his hands obey, can’t make himself pull away now that Yunhyeong is in his arms, panting lightly, eyes trained on Bobby’s lips like a trance, except Bobby isn’t rapping.

 

Yunhyeong is as sober as always, eyes clear as water, when his lips move to meet Bobby’s own; soft, plump, fingers winding in Bobby’s hair. A breath apart, a glimpse of red lips and Bobby’s gone – he has Yunhyeong pressed into the sofa, pajama shirt askew, eyes wide in alarm, except his hand reaches out for Bobby when he’s stopped to stare for too long. This isn’t what they do, this isn’t what friends, brothers do.

 

Bobby kisses him again, feels a leg wrap around his waist, feels a groan build up in his own throat and he doesn’t care anymore.

 

Yunhyeong smells like baby powder and clear water, like a taste Bobby’s been chasing for too long, and he wants nothing more than to pin Yunhyeong in place and kiss him for hours until he’s satisfied, until he can taste Yunhyeong hours later, can remember the shape of his lips in the dark. But for now he can feel Yunhyeong’s hardness against his thighs, his urgent jerks when Bobby rocks against him accidentally, the way he tosses his head back.

 

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ is coming out of Bobby’s mouth, he’s sure it’s him, it’s him groaning and growling at the sight underneath him, something he’s never even dared to imagine. He has no idea what he should be doing now, with Yunhyeong, with a _man,_ but his hands are moving, his hips are rocking, Yunhyeong is urging him on, head falling back.

 

He can taste the friction in the back of his throat, his heart racing as Yunhyeong rocks up against him, lips wet with kisses and hands urgently pushing up Bobby’s shirt, his own falling over a bare shoulder, and Bobby groans at the sight, takes both of Yunhyeong’s wandering hands in one of his own and pins him flat down, rocks into him in answer.

 

‘Like this,’ he breathes, and Yunhyeong just clenches his eyes closed, a whine escaping his throat, pushing up, arching his back until Bobby can’t bear to watch him, is coming with a loud groan in his jeans, rubbing circles into Yunhyeong’s hips as he follows, biting down on his lip until it bleeds.

 

Bobby watches him after, once his vision isn’t so blurry, watches the color fade from his cheeks, watches his beautiful eyes meet Bobby’s, wide and worried until he takes his lips into his own, pulls him flush against his body.

 

‘Don’t think too much. For me?,’ Bobby tries, voice low and soothing even though he can feel Yunhyeong's heart hammering in the silence, so close to his own. His body is one tense line, stiff and worried, and Bobby does what he can, runs his fingers through Yunhyeong's hair, wraps a warm around his waist the way he likes and holds his breath until Yunhyeong finally relaxes with a sigh. 

'Okay, okay,' is what he gets in reply, sad and quiet and Bobby wonders if he's just ruined everything.

**Author's Note:**

> actual yunbob trash it's 2:50 am lmaoo it was supposed to be...better than this im sorry :((((


End file.
